Page 20 of Seeing Grayscale

It’s not that I’m ashamed or anything because I’ve accepted what I am and how I have to survive.

The fear acts like cotton balls in my lungs because I don’t want Hunter to pity me. Or worse—change his mind.

People get real fucking weird when they know shit has…happened to you. And I’m well aware that I’ll probably developsome PTSD or other fancy disorder related to trauma, but I’m holding onto what little strength I have left to keep it at bay.

“One of my jobs as a doctor is determining if your living situation is safe. I won’t pretend I am not aware of yours.”

“Thanks?”

He nods to my arm, and I shove up the sleeve to reveal the thick veins in the crook of it. Tying a thick elastic band around my bicep, he flicks at the sensitive joint area before peeling the plastic away from the needle. I look away fast. “I still have to ask these questions, even if they seem ridiculous.” I suck in a breath when a cool alcohol pad swipes at my skin. “Do you feel unsafe?”

“Always.”

The needle pricks me, but I barely feel it. “Has anyone hurt you?”

“Yes,” I breathe, my eyes fluttering shut.

“When?”

“A few days ago.”

“Did this person do that to your leg and eye?”

I shake my head. “The leg…no. That was…I don’t know who they were. Got jumped.”

“And the eye?” he prompts.

“Someone else.” I open my eyes—er, eye.

He removes the needle, pressing a gauze pad to the hole, and quickly tapes it. “Are you injured anywhere else, Gray?” His cool brown irises are kind when he catches my gaze.

I glance at the shut door, swallowing hard. “Yes,” I admit. It looked pretty bad, and I haven’t been able to go to the bathroom because it hurts. That’s the only reason I’m letting that truth slip free.

“If you are comfortable with showing me, I can have a look.”

As I slowly stand, my head moves on an automatic bob, but I remember Hunter is right outside. “I’ll tell him it’ll be a few more minutes,” Doctor Perry reads my thoughts.

“Thanks.”

“I’ll run STD tests along with the rest of your urinalysis,” Doctor Perry says from the other side of the door.

Dressing as fast as possible from inside the bathroom, I fail to get rid of the shame flooding my cheeks. I’ve never had to do something like this, but I’m glad I did. The pain is due to three fissures in my ass, but the doctor says they’ll heal up as long as I keep clean and use the fancy ass cream he’s prescribing me.

He’s also hooking me up withactualpain pills…but I have to visit his clinic and get fucking x-rays.

Yeah, I’m livid about that part.

When I leave the restroom again, the doctor is closing his briefcase full of my blood and piss. This seems like a regular occurrence for him. “How long you been doin’ this?” I ask.

“Practicing medicine? Or visiting hotel rooms of men who aren’t my patients?”

“That.”

He smiles and straightens. “I’ll admit, this particular scenario is a first. But I have been with Mr. Kade for eleven years.”

“So you’rehisdoctor?”

“From time to time.” He winks at me. “Shall we let him back in?”

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